Another Legend: Side Stories
by Shinshia101
Summary: The title speaks for itself. Just little stories I came up with about LOD characters, both original and created by me. Enjoy!
1. Baby Names

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Legend of Dragoon.

**Author's Note**: Hi guys, it's me again! No, this isn't a sequel to my original fanfiction "Another Legend", I think it ended quite nicely. In any case, I thought of this concept long ago and decided, why not? It's winter break, and I might as post as many stories as I can before work starts in January (God willing.) Now, read!

"Another Legend: Side Stories"

By Shinshia101

**Baby Names**

She looked down at her stomach and smiled as the baby moved in her womb. It was almost time for the baby to be born and she had yet to come up with a name. They had just found out that is was going to be a baby girl. One of the women in the village said that if the baby felt like it was leaning toward your hip, then it was a boy, but if it didn't then it was a girl. She shook her head. Still she didn't really what the sex of the child was as long as it was healthy. Yes, that was what was important.

_But still I don't have a name! _

Shana and Dart divided the name task evenly. Dart would name the boys and Shana the girls. He had said that if the child was a boy, that they would name him 'Lavitz' after their dear friend. He had decided so quickly; Shana on the other hand was not so lucky.

The name 'Rose' began to float in her head. "Rose Feld" she whispered to herself. It didn't sound too bad, she thought. But it didn't really flow well. She looked down and touched her womb. "What do you think about that name?" The baby didn't move. "I didn't like it too much either." She wanted a name that had the people that were important to Dart. She knew Rose was important to her husband, and so was his father and mother. But how was she to incorporate all those names into the child? She couldn't honestly name their child Rose Zieg Claire Feld!

_Rose Zieg Claire Feld? _No! Absolutely not!

_Rosa Zelaire Feld? _No.

_Relaire Zie Feld? _No.

_Roza Claire Feld? _Hm…maybe. It had the 'Z' from Zieg…how about…

_Riza Claire Feld? _That sounded cute. It had the 'R' from Rose, the 'Z' from Zieg and the middle name belonged to Dart's mother.

"Riza…" she touched her stomach again. "How about that name? Riza Claire Feld?" The baby kicked.

_I guess she likes it! _Shana thought, smiling.

The name was fierce, but had a soft calming feeling to it, much like Dart. She closed her eyes imaging a little girl with large chestnut eyes and crazy dirty blond hair. A mini-Dart…almost. She giggled at the thought. Yes, that would be the child's name!


	2. Love at First Sight

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Legend of Dragoon.

"Another Legend: Side Stories"

By Shinshia101

**Love at First Sight**

Dart held the baby girl in his arms. She had curly brown hair and a pink chubby face. As Shana slept, he cradled their new child. She was so small and innocent. He watched as she squirmed in his arms. When he placed the child on his shoulder, she stopped moving, comfortable. Her soft lips parted as she slept soundly. He could feel the light beating of her heart. He didn't know what, but something inside him moved. This was his little girl; his little Riza.

It was love at first sight.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I don't know why I felt like writing this, but I did. It really isn't a chapter, just a little something I thought of. Sounds kind of corny, but I bet parents think and go through things like that when they have their first child.


	3. Self Acceptance

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Legend of Dragoon.

**Author's Note**: Wow. Wasn't expecting reviews for this fic, this was just random dribble. I was actually just gonna post these two chapters and be done, but since you guys want more, heck I'll give you more.

"Another Legend: Side Stories"

By Shinshia101

**Self-Acceptance**

Although it was a beautiful morning, he decided to stay inside and hid his nose in a good book. From under his bed, he pulled out a colossal book, with a capacity of over 1100 pages titled _Endiness Origins: From the Divine Tree to the Present. _After getting comfortable on his bed, he began reading. Originally, the book was many scrolls but it was compiled into a novel, at the young man's request. It was ancient, written by human scholars who studied the origins of all the living things on the planet, but in particular, it focused on human nature and trends in politics, history, culture and even fashion over the years. Despite the fact he had read this particular book about a hundred times, something new always seemed to pop out at him at each sitting.

His red eyes scanned over the words quickly as he flipped through the pages. He began to play out what the words said in his mind. The various colors—the reds, oranges, blues, greens and yellows. The cold chill of Mille Seseau. The heat of Tiberoa (though, no heat could match where he was situated, but still). The calm temperate climate of Serdio. What he would give to be out there and see all what he had read unfold before his very eyes?! However it was too dangerous for someone like him. A little more time, Charle had told him. To give the humans time to forget about their former oppressors.

Vector sighed and closed the book. He wasn't a human oppressor. Other than physical and magical features, he had more in common with the humans rather than the companions that he lived with in Ulara. For the majority of his life, he had wanted to _be_ human, like the ones that lived on the other side of the desert, but he had grown to accept himself

He turned to the small night table next to his bed and picked up a hexagon shaped frame. In it were himself, much younger than he was now, and a human woman with fiery red hair and steel blue eyes. She looked worn out, but despite that, her smile lit up the whole painting. Vector's eyebrows drooped a bit.

_Mother…_

Oh, how he missed her. She had died so many years ago—it would be 1178 years in 3 months and a day. In human years, he would've been about 72 when his mother had passed, but because of the Wingly blood that flowed through his veins he _looked_ more like a 12 year old at the time. During her funeral, the grieving child had refused to get out of the coffin where his mother lay, wanting to die with her. To him, without his mother, there was no point in living anymore; but Charle convinced him to remove himself from the casket. However, in the months that followed, Vector cursed his Wingly heritage, for making it nearly impossible to live with people like his mother and for retarding his rate of growth. For a moment in time, he even hated Charle—the woman who save both him and his mother from Faust's tyranny. He didn't understand why she hadn't given his mother a choker similar to that of Rose so that she could live with the life-expectancy of a Wingly as well.

However as time when on, Charle revealed to him that it was his mother's wish to die of old age. The elderly Wingly also taught him to love himself for who he was.

"_Your mother loved you despite that fact you were different from her. So why can you not love yourself?" _

That fact struck a chord in him. He remembered a particular conversation that he had with his mother once.

His whole life, his mother had told him that they had to stay in Ulara for his protection. Vector, being a rather intelligent child, understood that the separation was necessary—after all, the humans _despised _the Winglies, and even that was an understatement. However at times the young boy felt like he was burden to her. He didn't know when or how that thought came into his mind. Perhaps it was when he saw the families in the human books that Charle had gotten for him. Handsome men marry beautiful women and have children. His mother was very beautiful, well at least to him anyway. He wondered if his mother had ever thought about marriage. He had always feared his mother would leave him to find a human husband across the desert. The boy's over analytical mind was about to drive him insane, so to relieve himself, Vector decided to ask.

_------_

"_Marriage?" His mother stared at her son in shock. His eyes were serious, but also frightened—as if afraid of what she might say. She put her needle and thread down. "What is this about all of a sudden?"_

_Vector was a rather frank child when it came to his mother. However during this conversation he didn't know how to continue on. He wanted to know the answer to his question, but at the same time he didn't. What if he had been right and she truly wanted to leave Ulara, but wouldn't because of him? He debated on asking her to forget he had said anything, but he decided to answer his mother's question._

"_It's just…" He fumbled for the right words. "…you can't go out and be with the humans because of me." His lower lip began to quiver and the young boy sniffed. "And…and… well… just _**look**_ at me! I look like __**him**__! Don't you hate me for that?!" His voice had elevated more than he had wanted it to and he immediately put his hand over his mouth. He lowered his eyes, ashamed that he raised his voice at his mother. "I'm sorry mother…it's just that if you didn't have me around, you would be free to do what you wanted." _

_His mother bent down to his level and wiped away the tears from his eyes. "All I could ever want is right here in front of me." She smiled when the boy looked up at her with wide red eyes. "It's true. Faust was a terrible person who did terrible things…"_

_Vector put his head down. _He_ was the result of one of the many terrible things that Faust did to his mother. _

_She lifted his chin with her hand. "…but, you know what? I don't hate him. Do you know why?"_

_The boy was skeptic of his mother's response, and cocked one of his eyebrows. She __**didn't**__ hate Faust?_ _Wondering what her answer was, he shook his head._

_She pulled him into a tight hug. "Because he gave me __**you**__—my little vector of hope." She smiled again, this time, it was brighter than before, and nestled her chin on her son's platinum head. "I could __**never**__ hate you Vector. You are my __**life**__ and I love you more than anything! You have never held me back, you only pushed me forward."_

_Vector gently pushed free of his mother's embrace, to look into her blue eyes. "Truly?"_

_She nodded. "Truly. And what do you mean that you look like him? You look like me to! Like this nose…" With her index and middle fingers she pinched her son's nose, causing him to laugh. "And that smile, you definitely got that from me." _

_His smile grew wider, making his eyes that shape of crescent moons. "I love you too, Mother."_

_-----_

There were times when he would break mirrors because the resemblance with _**him **_was becoming more evident; but remembering what his mother had told him had helped him cope over the years. Slowly but surely, Vector came to terms with who he was.

He placed the picture frame back onto the night table and smiled.

True maybe he would never look like a human, but perhaps one day, he would get to see the world beyond the desert with his own eyes. Oh, that would be a sweet day indeed!

* * *

**Author's Note**: This was a little more serious than the last two, but I think we should all accept ourselves for who we are, especially the things we cannot change about ourselves. Hoped you liked it. More random writing is on its way. :)


	4. Criteria

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Legend of Dragoon.

"Another Legend: Side Stories"

By Shinshia101

**Criteria**

He noticed a folded piece of paper leaning against the picture of him and his mother. How long had it been sitting there?—he did not know. He sat up and yawned. He took the paper and opened it. His groggy red eyes looked over the two sentence note:

_When you get this, I expect you to hasten your footsteps to my chambers. There is something I need to speak with you about. _

_- Charle_

Vector cocked a brow. Normally there would be a 'Dear Vecty' , several hearts around the sheet of paper, or some other means of showing affection, but there was none. It was blank and straight to the point, so unlike the caretaker he knew.

"Odd…"

He flirted with the thought that Charle wasn't the one who gave him this note, but someone else, posing as the elderly Wingly to draw him out. It had happened a few times before—young Wingly women posed as the older Wingly, wanting to get his attention, but their attempts never worked. However he rid himself of that theory. This _was_ Charle's handwriting, and despite the seriousness of the content, the dots on the "i"s had their trademark heart-shape.

Sensing the urgency of the note, he got out of bed and splashed some water onto his face from a basin at the end of his bed. As he dressed himself, he wonder what pressing matter could have made Charle call upon him in such a way. He hadn't the slightest idea. Dressed and well-groomed, Vector briskly walked toward the teleporter that led to Charle's chambers.

He found her sitting in her large plush seat at the end of her room. He bowed respectfully. "You summoned me?"

Charle nodded. "Yes. There is something that has been bothering me, and I felt it was important to speak with you immediately." She got up and began to pace back and forth in front of him, as if she was thinking of something.

Vector's eyes followed her every move, but she said nothing. "Charle…?"

She stopped and sighed. "Vecty dearest, the reason why I called you here is because…" She looked up and gave him the goofiest smile he had ever seen. "…I think it is about time that you find yourself a good wife!"

Immediately, the young male flushed. Had he heard her correctly? "A wife?!" From the way she was acting a moment ago, he had thought that she was going to talk about something very serious. But she didn't, and in actuality, he was relieved. Still telling him to get a wife was a rather…strange. "Charle, now I think isn't the time to…"

Charle gasped, placing her hand over her heart. "How can you say that?" She pointed her index at him. "You need to settle down and make babies! I want to see baby-Vectors!"

He shook his head. "…I know…" He looked at her and her lips were pouted. Sometimes, despite her age, Charle acted like a child. He had expected her to drop the subject and move on, but she just stared at him, with annoyed red eyes. He sighed. She really wanted this for him, but…

"It's just I have certain _criteria_ in a spouse and I don't think I've found the right one yet."

Charle took her seat into the plush chair. "Criteria? I didn't know you had specifications for your future wife."

"Well, I do." Vector glanced at Charle, who looked ever eager to hear what his criteria were. He really didn't feel like telling her. It was embarrassing enough that he admitted to it, now he had to list them. But he gave in. "Well, I want someone who is beautiful and exotic no doubt, but above that I would like her to be well rounded in literature, history, politics, and everyday life…"

The older Wingly groaned. "You want a _smart_ wife? Like _you_? You'll bore each other to death!" She raised one of her silver eyebrows. "Well, each man to his own I guess. If _that_ is your criteria I'm surprised that you haven't married yet. There are many women here who are…"

"No, no, no," Vector interrupted, shaking his head. "All those women were all taught just like I was; trained just like I was. I want a _new_ perspective. Something different, something more…"

"Human?" Charle said, filling in the missing word.

Again, Vector flushed. He didn't want to it sound like an insult. "I mean…it isn't like I don't…um…Wingly women are quite beautiful, it's just…"

He lowered his eyes. It was just that the Winglies didn't understand all of emotions that humans had. They were considered weakening and unnecessary, however, to Vector it wasn't quite so. His mother was affectionate and empathic with him, unlike the Wingly mothers that he had observed over the years of his stay in Ulara.

The elder Wingly clapped her hands, breaking what was about to become an awkward silence. "I understand. You want to explore new horizons."

He sighed, relieved. "…Exactly."

"Fine, if you want to wait, then I'll let you…but not for too long! I'm getting old you know!"

Vector shook his head, but couldn't help but smirk. "Yes Charle."


	5. Loving You

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Legend of Dragoon.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys long time no write. Almost a whole year! O_O Just decided to do another chapter since I had the time and didn't feel like studying for my finals.. Hope you like. :)

"Another Legend: Side Stories"

By Shinshia101

**Loving You**

"Riza!" Her father called impatiently. "Get in the wagon, we are about to leave!"

Riza groaned as she rolled off the bed and dragged her feet to the door. She was still in her sleeping garments even though it was mid afternoon. She made the loudest and most believable cough she could.

"Daddy, I feel sick…" She placed her hands on her stomach.

Her father narrowed his eyes, annoyed that she was still in her sleeping garments. Leaving the work he was doing on the wagon, however, he walked to his daughter and bent down to look at her face. It wasn't lacking any sort of color, but her eyes were drooped, as if she was about to keel over. He gently placed his large, rough hand on her forehead. The hand left as quickly as it went on. He sighed.

"Go inside and change your clothes. We're leaving in ten minutes."

"But I'm **sick**," the seven year old argued, her voice raspy. She coughed again. "Check my throat; I think there's something growing back there."

"Stop lying, young lady!" he snapped. "I have no time for your petty games. Now, go inside and _change_!" His hand was on his belt buckle now, warning her if she did otherwise.

Riza frowned and turned to go back to her room, hunching her shoulders in annoyance. She quickly changed, but decided to linger for a bit. She flopped on her unkempt bed, and stared at the ceiling.

She wasn't lying. She _was_ sick. Every time those five words came out of her father's mouth, her stomach would churn and she felt like she wanted to vomit.

_We are going to Bale._

She moaned at the thought and turned, clutching her sheets tightly.

There was nothing particularly _wrong_ with going to Bale; she actually enjoyed the sights and the bustling noises from the numerous people, so different from small town in Seles. A change of scenery was nice every once in a while.

Ever since the day her mother passed on, her father had been more strict and distant with her. The girl understood. Her parents loved each other like no one she ever knew and the loss of her mother took a dramatic effect on her father. She always figured that his distance was just a way of coping, since he was most likely still mourning his loss.

However during their trips to Bale, her father seemed calmer, as if leaving his woes and worries back home and embracing something new as he entered the large city. He would even grace her with more than just the usual grunts and orders. He'd even spill a laugh every now and then. She liked it when her father smiled, he barely ever did after her mother had died, and apparently the young girl's presence wasn't enough to muster one out of him.

Sometimes it felt like her father barely realized she even existed. If he wasn't sitting in front of that gravestone for hours, he was in his shop making new weapons. At times she liked the fact that her father didn't bother her. It was as if they had some sort of mutual unspoken agreement: You leave me alone, I leave you alone, and everybody's happy. But she wasn't really happy, just ignored. She wanted to be noticed, to be loved like the other children. Why did her mother have to hog father even in death?

It was after that she had found her way into mischief. It had started out as some small pranks here and there. Then she moved on to stealing the baker's utensils or letting out the pigs and watched in amusement as the pig farmers tried to chase them all around town. It was funny to her, but apparently her father never shared her humor and her actions resulted in a light beating and fixing any damage that she did. She hated getting hit, but at the same time a part of her didn't mind it. It was the only time that her father seemed to acknowledge her presence and went out of his way to talk to her, even if he was just to scold her.

Still not once had she ever seen him smile because of something she did, even if it was a good thing.

He'd never praise her in her school work like the other parents did; it was as if it was expected of her. She remembered one time when she created her own dagger. She was so proud of herself, and thought her father would be proud too. However her father became unusually angry, flinging the small piece of metal and yelling at her how dangerous it was for her to handle such an object. He then sent her to her room. There was no praise about how beautiful the metalwork was. There was no awe and wonder about how she even made it. Just anger.

Her muse was soon interrupted as the sound of her name caused her to lift her head sharply and scramble out of bed. She jogged outside to be greeted by a pair of narrowed hazel eyes. She lowered her head and climbed onto the wagon in silence. Seeing that she was in a comfortable position, her father moved the reins attached to the horses and they were on their way.

The young girl sighed, trying to comfort herself.

_Going to Bale means Dad will be less angry. He'll smile. He'll hit me less. I should be happy about this…_

But she wasn't.

Going to Bale meant that she had to stay at the _Slambert_ residence. That was what she dreaded the most.

**-0-0-0-0-0-**

By the time they had arrived it was drizzling in Bale. Her father quickly descended from the wagon when they reached the Slambert residence.

Mrs. Slambert greeted them warmly from the inside of her home. Although she would've liked to greet them outside, the cool weather from the rain affected her joints. She called out to them.

"Dart! Riza! Come in and get out of the rain."

"Good evening Mr. Feld," Tristan said politely, holding the door as the elder male walked inside the house.

"Good evening Tristan," her father replied. He gave the boy a small nod of approval.

Riza remained on the wagon, not wanting to move. A pair of green eyes met hers and she looked away. She didn't want to be here, she felt like she was intruding.

"Riza!"

The young girl jumped off the wagon, and grabbed the reins of the horses. "I'll be there in a minute." She had hoped her father would turn around and nod in approval as she led the horses into the stable. But she received nothing.

_I wonder if he would be less angry if I was a boy…_

Then again, her father probably would still hate her anyway.

After placing the animals inside, she closed the wooden gate, and locked it securely. She lifted up some hay and placed it in the trough for the horses to eat. As they gnawed at their food, she took a seat in front of them and watched them. Despite the fact was rather warm and stuffy in the small stable, she didn't mind it. It reminded her of the summers at Rouge where she used to spend time with her grandfather. She wished that she was with her grandfather; he never _dared_ hit her. A matter of fact, they got a long quite nicely and there were times that she wished _he _was her father instead of…

The sudden feeling of wetness broke her from her train of thought. She immediately looked up to see Tristan looming over her, with an empty bucket in his hand.

"You're dad told me to get you," he said as Riza stared at him in shock. "You looked so busy thinking I decided to wake you up." A sly grin formed his face.

Riza gasped as she examined her wet figure—her father would yell at her for sure, probably thinking that she was playing in the water trough. Her eyes immediately narrowed and she left no hesitation in tackling Tristan to the ground. They rolled in the straw as the boy desperately tried to get her off of him.

"I hate you!" she screamed. "I hate you!" She lifted her fist, ready to strike when something pulled her hand back. She turned around and stared in horror as her father looked down at her. In a swift motion, he removed her from Tristan, and placed her next to him.

"Explain yourself!" He barked.

Riza cowered a bit as his voice elevated. "I was…he…"

"I was just calling her for dinner like you told me to, Mr. Feld," Tristan interrupted, dusting the hay off his garments. "But apparently she was playing with the animals and when I told her that I'd tell you she just attacked me!" His large green eyes looked at the adult full of fear in false innocence.

"Liar!" she hissed.

"That's enough Riza," he ordered. "Get inside and clean yourself up! I would like to have a word with you when you are clean."

Riza stood there for a moment, mumbling. "It's not true. He's lying." As her father turned away, the young girl ran in front of him. "Why don't you _believe_ me?" She inquired. "Why don't you _**ever**_ believe me?" Her father looked at her in shock, about to speak, but was interrupted. "Why do you _love_ himmore than me? Why? _I'm_ your daughter!" Tears streamed down her face and with her words said, she ran out the stable and into the wet city streets.

"Riza!"

Despite the fact her father called her name, she kept running. Her eyes stung from the salt in her tears, and it was hard to see with the rain. Riza slowly began to walk down the cobblestone streets. She shivered, but not from the cool air that the rain brought, but the idea of her father yelling at her again. Talking back wasn't something he liked her doing. And he looked extra angry when he saw her hurting Tristan.

_Well then he can have the son he's always wanted. He doesn't need me…_

Again tears flowed from her eyes.

She narrowed her eyes and screamed. "Why?" She asked the dark sky. "Why does he hate me so much? Why does he smile at Tristan and not at me? Why does he approve of Tristan and not of me? Why? **Why doesn't he love me**?"

She sat down in the street and hugged her knees, silently sobbing to herself. Her small frame wasn't seen by the merchant driving the carriage carrying goods to the castle. The horse's loud shriek startled everyone. The small girl screamed as the horse lifted up its feet to crush her.

A heavy weight fell upon her and she felt herself being dragged toward the left. Slowly she opened her eyes and saw wet blond hair that covered the familiar face of her father. He was breathing heavily, as the merchant yelled at the two for walking in the middle of the street.

Riza turned to her father, but suddenly she grew afraid. Her father would scold her for sure! He would…

However she found no anger when she looked in his hazel eyes. They were full of something she had never seen before.

His eyes softened and he pulled her into a tight hug. His sudden display of affection shocked her. What was he doing _here_? She had expected that he would be eating dinner with Tristan and Mrs. Slambert.

He looked at her up and down. "Are you alright? Where does it hurt?" His questions came out of his mouth so quickly she almost didn't hear what he said.

"I'm fine…" Riza mumbled, but then felt a pain in her head. She gently touched her hair and looked at her fingertips – she was bleeding. Her father's eyes followed hers and noticed the crimson liquid as well. To her surprise (for the second time) her father scooped her into his arms and began to run. However she felt cold and tired and her eyes closed.

**-0-0-0-0-0-**

She was awakened by the sounds of birds chirping outside. Riza slowly opened her eyes, wondering if all that happened last night had been a dream. However the pain in her head said otherwise and she moaned.

As if on cue, her father rushed by her side, taking a seat at the edge of the bed which she laid on. His eyes were red and his hair unruly. He didn't even look like he had taken a bath at all.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice soft as he gently stroke her face.

Riza pressed her lips together, not knowing what to say, so she said nothing.

Her father sighed and the two sat in silence.

"That's not true…" he finally said breaking the silence. Riza looked up at him. His was frowning, with his back hunched over. "I don't…I don't hate you Riza."

Her eyes widened. He had heard her in the rain then? Again she said nothing.

"It's just…I don't know…I don't know what to do with you sometimes," he admitted. "You can get so out of hand, so wild…I just…" He turned to look at her, as tears welled up in his eyes.

She moved a bit, trying to sit up. She glanced at her father. "So…" she spoke cautiously. "So you don't hate me even though I'm not a boy like Tristan?"

Her father stared at her in disbelief. "A what? You thought that…oh Riza…" He pulled her into a tight hug. "I am sorry…so sorry."

She could feel her shirt collar get wet. Was he crying?

"Why didn't I notice before? Why didn't I notice I was slowly losing you?" He mumbled between tears.

Riza patted him on the back, rubbing it and cooing to him. "Don't cry, Daddy. It's okay…"

He looked at her with a serious face. "No it _isn't_ okay. I've been so engulfed with myself, never noticing that you were suffering as well." He gently smiled. "I **do** love you, Riza, and it's about time that I show it more!"

The young girl grinned widely and embraced her father.

"I love you too Daddy. I love you too."


End file.
